Looking for Jonathan Morgenstern
by jonathanmorgenstern
Summary: Clary and Jonathan were raised by Valentine. The Clave finds them and Jonathan goes missing. Clary escapes. Now she's on the hunt to find her lost brother. But what will happen when her search takes her to New York? FULL SUM INSIDE. AU. OOC. DARK CLARY.
1. Pandemonium

_/Full Summary_: Clary was raised alongside her brother by Valentine. She believes her mother left her at an early age to be with a Downworlder, making her bitter towards their race. Her father trained her to be one of the most lethal Shadowhunters to have ever existed. And with her rune abilities and brother by her side, she feels untouchable. However, things take a drastic change when she returns home one evening to find an abandoned manor house. Upon spying on a meeting at the Guard, Clary learns that her father and brother have both escaped Idris. Now she's on the hunt for Jonathan. She's traveled through half of Europe and decided to venture into American territory. But a chance encounter with a few local Nephilim will take Clary on a journey she had never anticipated. How can she find Jonathan without revealing who she truly is? Can she keep her identity a secret before anyone figures her out? And how will she deal with the onslaught of unfamiliar emotions the new Shadowhunters cause her…especially a certain blonde? Join Clary as she (_literally_ *winky*) goes through Hell and back to find Jonathan. 

_Rated M for violence, language, and possible lemons.  
[OOC, AU]_

**[Chapter 1]  
Pandemonium  
+**

It was nearing midnight and the club below pulsed with life.

The air was so heavily concentrated with smoke and sweat that breathing became a challenge. I had been sitting at the upstairs bar, lazily twirling my untouched, nonalcoholic, mundie drink when I decided I was bored enough to venture around. I slipped down the long, creaking flight of stairs, fighting against the heavy music that seemed to push its way up through the steps as I went downward. I could feel the metal vibrating beneath my feet.

Pandemonium thrived with its usual grandeur. The place was filled with writhing bodies and obscured by the levels of acidic smoke and flashing lights. It was a refuge for demonic activity.

The perfect place to hunt for someone being hunted.

Despite it being the final days of autumn, the club accumulated no air and was drenched in humidity. The heat, packed with the bodies, made me uncomfortable in my own gear. I itched to remove a layer of clothing but knew better than to do so. I hadn't bothered to glamour myself tonight, relying on the sole purpose of needing a jacket and long pants in the midst of the cold weather. A stupid miscalculation that my father would've whipped me for.

Once I had reached the first floor, my eyes slowly dragged over every corner of the room. With the sparks of florescent lights beaming off everything reflective it was becoming fairly challenging to differentiate a simple mundane from an Eidolon demon. I could barely even smell my own scent due to the strange mixture of odors, let alone the scent of any demons who may be on the prowl, so I didn't bother trying. Either way, I wasn't here to hunt demons.

Leaning back against the railing, I felt the cold iron of an angel blade concealed by my thigh. A few daggers were placed inside my jacket pockets, pressing wintery kisses against my skin every time I moved. My Morgenstern sword, _Heosphoros_, was secured tightly near my waist. A stele had been jammed down the right side of my boot. Runes were inked into my skin and hidden from sight.

I felt ready for battle. But I also felt weighed down. Not just from my weapons.

The music took a sudden leap into something more melancholic. A few mundanes had retreated from the dance floor, leaving a more comfortable atmosphere for those who remained. I noticed with slight amusement that the majority of people still dancing were Downworlders. They seemed to enjoy the change in tune.

Just then, something flickered in the strobe lights and caught my eyes.

Staring straight ahead, I noticed a pair of hypnotic coffee colored irises gazing right into my own forest-green ones. The boy was tall and lanky, a little more on the teen side than to be fully classified as a grown man just yet. His dark blonde hair was frayed in every which way, falling into his eyes as he danced carelessly with a petite brunette. He saw me staring and winked, drawing the girl around in his arms so that she faced me as well. Her dark grey eyes widened, and then she glanced back at her friend. He smirked down at her, and it was as if a silent communication was passed between the two. They both looked back at me and the girl inclined her neck to the side. Beckoning me forward.

I was too startled to move.

Glancing around just in case, I realized with apprehension that they wanted me to join them. Slowly, I turned my head back to face the duo and felt a weight settle between my shoulders. What could two mundanes possibly want from me? They surely didn't know what I was. Then what was that unspoken glance they sent towards one another? I couldn't outright ignore them now. I knew something was off. That settled my motives. I leapt from my perch and slid past the sea of bodies, maneuvering my way through the crowd until I was right in front of the couple.

They hadn't bothered to stop dancing, instead they progressed with much more vigor that suddenly made me a little uncomfortable. The girl noticed and grinned at me. "Honey, it's nothing to be afraid of. We just wanted to talk. Why don't you join us?"

I frowned.

That certainly wasn't what I had expected.

"If you continue standing there you'll look out of place," the boy declared.

Swallowing, my body started to sway to the beat on its own accord. It was an unfamiliar feeling, to dance like this, but soon I caught on and just let myself become one with my surroundings. The couple grinned at me. "Very good," the girl encouraged. She then distanced herself from the boy and drew me closer towards her, splaying her hands against my shoulders and continuing as if she hadn't just switched partners.

I froze.

The boy rolled his eyes. "Don't think too much about it. She does this a lot. Just relax."

"You called me over?" I demanded, ignoring the girl but also hesitantly going back to swaying on the spot. The girl on my arms seemed off in her own world as she mouthed the words to the music and twirled back and forth. The boy rolled his eyes at her but nodded.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet."

"Figured what out?"

"What my friend and I are."

I stopped dancing and stared at them. The girl had closed her eyes and was dancing in circles around another couple. The boy stood in front of me stoically. It was then that I realized how cold they felt, even in this putrid humidity. Both of them, although very different in their personalities, were similar in other ways. They both had dark, hallowed eyes. They both had sickly pale skin. They both had lured me forward…as if I were their prey.

"Children of the Night," I whispered. My hand founds the angel blade at my waist.

The boy noticed. "We did not come here to fight, little Nephilim. We simply were curious as to where the rest of your friends are. You Shadowhunters travel in groups, from what my friend and I have observed."

"And just who exactly are your friend and you?"

He smiled darkly, his thin lips tightening. "My name is Jacob, and that lunatic over there is Maureen. We're members of the New York Clan."

"What are you doing at Pandemoim?" I demanded.

He narrowed his eyes. "Are we not welcomed here?"

"I doubt that. Demons prowl here all the time, what difference does it make if Downworlders do so too? Regardless, that doesn't make your appearance any more comforting to the mundane population. So I will ask again, as is in my mandate to do so. What are you vampires planning?"

"We're not here to feed," he growled. "Only to enjoy the evening. Of course, you Shadwhunters wouldn't know the meaning of that. All you do is procrastinate about your laws, and slaughter anything if you believe it to hold a threat. Maureen and I have done nothing wrong."

"Yet."

He snarled at me. I gripped my blade.

And suddenly his eyes focused on something behind my back and his face paled, which for a vampire was a pretty strenuous feat. I whipped around and felt my blood run thick. Three men and one women were lounging against the main bar, smiling at the crowd below them. To anyone else they would seem seductive and perhaps allusive.

But to myself and the two Night's Children, they seemed exactly as they truly were. We saw the rotting fangs, hairy talons, and scaled grey skin that seemed to melt off their bones. Their gleaming red eyes were completely crimson with no pupils, only slits. Their smell was severely worse than the already reeking scent of acidic smoke and perspiration.

They were demons.

Glancing back at Jacob, I noticed he was now staring at me, as if asking me what I was going to do. He knew I was outnumbered and alone. He had stated that much. But I had no idea whether or not his friend and he were trained to fight demons. Nor did I feel inclined to ask. Instead, I took in a large gulp of air and nodded at him, a slight acknowledgment that our small feud was over, and without further hesitation, braced myself to rush forward.

But I was stopped abruptly when a large hand covered my shoulder.

Whipping around, I grasped an angel blade from my belt and was about to lodge it into the intruders throat when I realized how inappropriate that would've been considering where I was and what I was surrounded by. My training with Valentine made me act first before thinking. Brutalize my opponents before asking questions.

Jacob looked at me exasperatedly. "We can lure them in if you can do the messy part."

I stared at him. Could I do that? Trust them with four demons and possibly my own life? They could be plotting an ambush for all I knew. They were Downworlders. My father had taught Jonathan and me that their kind was dangerous and manipulative. He told us never to trust them. He also told us that we'd never be caught by the Clave.

Slowly, I nodded.

Before long, I was hidden in one of the empty storage closets found in a back corner of Pandemonium. It was dusty and sweltering, much like the heart of the club, but at least it was dark and less noisy. I felt my head ache start to dull.

The doorknob turned and light poured in. I braced myself behind one of the many storage nets. A tall silhouette walked in, draping behind them a sheet of silk and lace. I blinked in confusion. Had Maureen changed into something more 'appealing' to lure in the demons? But upon further notice I realized there was only one. Where were the other three? And where had Jacob gone?

Feeling unease start to bloom in my chest, I ducked further behind the net and peaked out between the folds so I could watch the silhouette and the lone demon. Something was horrifically wrong. Whispering its name, I pulled my seraph blade from behind my back and ignited it immediately. I gripped the heated iron in the palm of my right hand and a single dagger found purchase in my left fist. Falling into a crouch, I closed in one them, ready to leap out at any given moment.

In the dim light I could see the silhouette had long oil-slick black hair and icy grey eyes. Her smile was wicked as she uncoiled her bracelet and drew the demon forward towards her chest. I took in a shallow breath as I watched. And then stopped breathing all together when I saw the angelic rune stamped proudly on her collar bone.

The demon must have seen it as soon as I had for he leapt away with a shriek and charged for the door. The Shadowhunter shot her arm out and something metallic wrapped around the demons throat, making him gag. His eyes burned with fear and fury as he struggled to release himself. But the girl just grinned and reeled him in by the handle of her electrum whip.

What Jacob had said before was true. Most Shadowhunters traveled in packs. Which means this girl was most likely not alone. The others were close behind her.

I had to get out of here. The Shadow World cannot know I exist.

Shooting out from behind the net, I raced for the door, careful to keep myself hidden within the shadows. The girl seemed otherwise preoccupied at the moment. The exit was in sight, and it had already been opened so all I had to do now was slip through the cracks…

And then in burst another Nephilim, this one with icy blue eyes and a readied arrow…

Pointed directly at my chest.

His eyes widened.

The girl behind me shouted something.

He looked back at her and I took that as my window of opportunity.

Rushing past him, I threw open the door and ran as fast as I had ever run. I hadn't even run at this pace when I had raced to Alicante in search for Jonathan. At least then I was covered by the woods. Now I was out in the open. Vulnerable.

Not bothering to maneuver around the crowd, I simply shoved forward, ignoring a few curses and cries of complaint as I hurled myself towards the exit into the alleyway I had come from. The music had grown louder. The lights more blinding. What had I been thinking coming here? Jonathan wouldn't ever set foot in a place like this.

Breathing deeply, feeling hysteria seeping into my veins, I didn't notice the dark figure running straight at me until I felt it like a hurricane throwing me backwards.

My entire body burned as the heavy weight crashed into me dead on. My head spun and soon I found myself on the floor…with the weight still pressed deeply into my chest, cutting off my breathing. Something had gripped to my shoulders tightly, as if to steady me…or restrain me. I was trapped. Blinking back clouds of pain, I stared up ahead.

And found myself looking into a pair of wide golden eyes.

**AN: Finally! I finally found a plot to stick to! Haha. This was only chapter one and there is still A LOT more to come. I have big plans for this fic and hopefully you guys will stick around to see them ;) Sorry for any grammatical errors, I have no beta! Do you like it so far? Review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! **

**Here's a sneak preview of a flashback scene in chp.2:**

_He paused, contemplating his words, before biting out grimly, "the Other Jonathan"'_

_Fury shot through me. Reaching over I grabbed his wrist, the one fisting into the dirt, and tugged him sharply. He slowly turned his head, eyes heavy with bitter grief and turmoil. It made me want to curl over a vomit. "Never call him that. There is only one Jonathan that matters and you are him. That boy means nothing to us. He's a pest. A nuisance. And he isn't worthy of your name."_


	2. The Other Jonathan

_Disclaimer: I don't own Cassandra Clare's novels. All rights go to her._

**[Chater 2]  
The Other Jonathan  
+**

The moment only lasted shortly, fanning out like the life span of a moth.

My mind divulged into every corner of training Valentine had implanted there, and without hesitation I thrust my knee up into the boy's chest and whipped my head forward. He cursed violently as I knocked him backwards. I was trained to block out the pain, so the blow didn't harm me as much as it was meant to harm him. But that didn't mean I couldn't feel a dull throb blooming in my temples. I'd need an _iratze_ later.

He staggered to his feet quickly, a furious look transforming his bewildered face, and before I could even catch my breath he had a seraph blade balanced deadly between his curling fingers, aimed right at my rib cage.

"Who are you?" He hissed.

I narrowed my eyes.

Without answering, I used a maneuver I was very familiar with, and spun out of the way so that my back was to his in a matter of heartbeats. But to my annoyance, he was stealthier than I had expected. As I was about to bolt forward, I froze mid-step as the boy appeared directly in my line of plight, golden eyes burning. He didn't look too pleased.

But there was also something else in those eyes. The way they shone gold, then silver at second glance, made me think of how one might view the shadows of their bedroom walls between nightfall and sunrise. Ever changing but reluctant to be moved. Stubborn.

"Perhaps you don't understand the direness of my question."

The way he was poised, ready to strike but holding himself back as if knowing that attacking another of his kind was highly frowned upon, made me realize I might still have a chance at escaping.

I too was on defense, but I was less obvious about where I hid my weapons and the secret blade which I had fisted behind my back. Valentine wouldn't bat an eyelash at the idea of murdering another Shadowhunter. Jonathan, however, would be reluctant to do so…unless of course the reason was good enough.

I was unsure what I would do, and that hesitance still seems to stand.

Especially when faced directly with the situation.

"Where did you come from? Surely the Clave would have informed the local Institute of your sudden arrival. It is unlikely that they forgot, so don't even try to play that card. And you also appear to be by yourself, which leads me to believe that you weren't sent here by anyone, and merely showed up by your own consent."

I wanted to blink, or swallow, or even take in a proper breath. But all that seemed impossible. His glare held me in place.

His face was angled in such a way that the shadows beneath each crevice of skin seemed to decorate him like the fine brush strokes of a _Botticelli_ painting. His high cheek bones and defined lips made me think momentarily of how the angel Raziel was depicted in the Codex, terribly beautiful. His eyes, which, upon further notice, were only a few shades lighter than his hair, were hardened by years of training and battling. The only slight imperfection I could find was that fading bruise to his right temple that had been placed their when I knocked our heads together. It made me want to feel regretful, to have harmed such a beautiful person. But like the Fair Folk of the Seelie Court, his beauty was underlined with a tragic sadism. And immediately I was brought back by the unfurling anger that pounded through my veins.

He was screwing with my head and I needed to stay focused.

I needed to get away from him.

I needed Jonathan.

"You're right. I was not sent by the Clave."

"Then you do realize that I am obliged to report you?" He added darkly but not without mischief.

"_Obliged_ is such an odd term. So commanding. Why not 'required' instead? In that case, you don't necessarily have to mention this to anyone." I retorted slyly.

His grinned. "If only it were that way. A world where we could replace our duties with our desires. Unfortunately, I still desire to report you if you don't have your story sorted in the next sixty seconds. Don't take it too personally, it's merely for the safety of everyone involved."

I glowered at him while his grin deepened.

"Well, as nice as this lesson on semantics has been, I'd like to take my leave now."

He sobered immediately, his lips tightening slightly. "You cannot leave until you at least tell me your name and business here."

I sighed. "My name is Clary. I am here in search for something."

"Care to elaborate?" He asked. When I didn't reply, he said, "Maybe I could help."

Hesitating only momentarily, I debated the pros and cons of allowing another Nephilim to help me with my search. Of course that wouldn't work unless they too harbored a deep hatred for the Clave. They would also most likely ask too many questions about who we were 'rescuing' and I would be forced to either knock them unconscious or murder them. That thought alone made me uneasy. Thinking back to my brother, I resolved I needed to do this alone.

"That wouldn't be too likely." I whispered so quietly that the boy frowned and leaned closer.

"And why are you so sure about that?" He sounded a little concerned but his hand was still molded to the sword at his belt. As was mine still fisted with a knife. We both seemed to acknowledge this at the same time, for we both grew stiffer.

"Because if you truly had what I am searching for you wouldn't need to question me."

His molten eyes bore into mine. "I don't…"

"Understand? I didn't expect you to."

"…know why you're behaving like this."

That shut me up.

"None of your damn concern." I snapped.

His quirked his eyebrows and took a dangerous step forward. Confidence emitting from both his tone and posture. "On the contrary," he said dryly, "it is very much my concern. You're in our designated territory, and therefore it is in our mandate to report back to Idirs if anything suspicious occurs. Unless of course you can clear your name right now and we can all go about our own separate ways? That is, if you actually tell me your full name first."

"Why don't you tell me yours first?"

He smirked. "Jace Lightwood."

Oh, by the angel. The situation just worsened. The Lightwoods were in the Circle with my parent's years ago, indefinitely spending long days and nights getting acquainted with their companions. I looked enough like my mother and carried a Morgenstern sword. They'd recognize me immediately. And then this would all be for nothing. I'd be turned in and trialed by the Mortal Sword.

But then something else caught my attention, and my mind narrowed in on one small detail, and I felt fury pound through my veins.

He had said his name was Jace.

There aren't too many Shadowhunters with that name. Or anyone for that matter. Which could only mean one thing. _Jonathan Christopher_. JC.

The imposter.

The golden child.

The _Other Jonathan_.

An abrupt, unwanted memory resurfaced and I couldn't stop it from coming.

"_Father never returns before sundown. He saves the nights for us and spends all the daylight with him."_

_I peaked at my brother and frowned. "He doesn't care about us, Jonathan."_

_My brother narrowed his eyes at the grass in front of him and ripped a chunk of dirt from the ground, flinging some into his snowy white hair. Our father's hair. "He should care about you. You're not bad like I am. You have angel blood…like him…"_

_He paused, contemplating his words, before biting out grimly, "the Other Jonathan"'_

_Fury shot through me. Reaching over I grabbed his wrist, the one fisting into the dirt, and tugged him sharply. He slowly turned his head, eyes heavy with bitter grief that made me want to curl over a vomit. "Never call him that. There is only one Jonathan that matters and you are him. That boy means nothing to us. He's a pest. A nuisance. And he isn't worthy of your name."_

_Jonathan stared at me with his midnight eyes. I stared back confidently, willing him to see the sincerity behind my words. Then, sinister in its laziness, his lip quirked upward, creating a very ethereal lure to his innocent, child-like face. Jon immediately brought me into his lap. 'We can call him whatever we want, Clary. It's just a name. And for what it is worth, father isn't worthy of you. I'm actually glad he's gone with the Other Jonathan. Because now I can have you all to myself.'_

_My smile was so big that it hurt my cheeks. His eyes lit up as he grinned back at me._

_I giggled as he suddenly shoved me off his lap and reached over to grab his sword, Phaesphoros. A real Morgenstern sword made of iron. Not the wooden ones father gave the Other Jonathan so that he wouldn't be injured. His precious child. "Race you back to the house!" Jonathan shouted._

_Grabbing for my own Morgenstern sword, Heosphoros, I followed him into the woods. Our laughter rang throughout the countryside, as if we wanted Valentine's other son to hear us and know we were having fun without father, no matter how many miles away. To know that Jonathan and I were happier with just each other and no one else. _

I snarled and thrust my blade forward viciously.

**AN: Sorry for another cliffhanger but I was busy all week and I really wanted to update! Thank you so much for all your kind words and follows! What do you think so far? Clary seems dark and depressing, understandably (she **_**was**_** raised by Valentine!), but I promise things will change eventually. Sort of. Well, we'll just have to wait and see I guess. Are you also a Jonathan fan? If so, why? I absolutely love him and it always makes me happy to read about why others love him as well :)** **Next chapter will have lots of action and dialogue. Review and tell me what you'd like to see more of? Perhaps a surprise appearance of a certain someone… *evil grin***


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